


Midnight Whisperings

by AwakeandAsleep



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Brendon misses Ryan, F/M, Its Been 10 years Since the Panic Split, M/M, Panic At The Disco (Band), Partying, Ryden, Sex, Swearing, Touring, brendons pov
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-14
Updated: 2016-02-03
Packaged: 2018-05-13 21:41:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5718106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AwakeandAsleep/pseuds/AwakeandAsleep
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brendon Urie has been trying to forget about Ryan Ross for the last ten years since the band split up. He feels this ache deep down in his core when he even thinks about Ryan. To put it in simple terms, he's heartbroken. But he's married now; to Sarah. And life should be great right? But something is missing. Brendon feels alone and lost until one night Ryan just happens to be in the right place at the right time. That's when Brendon realizes that nothing is ever going to be the same again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The sun went down over my head

Here I am again. Waking up in bed. With him. 

I thought I put this whole thing to rest ten years ago, but you know what they say, old habits die hard. And he's the one bad habit I've never been able to kick.

Sure, it may seem like I've forgotten about him. It may seem like I never even knew he existed. But that's all bullshit and anyone who really knows me knows that it kills me to even think about him. To say his name. To sing his words over and over again every night.

His words. His stupid fucking beautiful words. No matter how hard I try, my lyrics could never compare to his. Words just flow into his mind and then down onto paper. Once he has it all written down, he forms the melodies around the lyrics. He was always so passionate about getting his message across, and letting the beat and the melodies come later. None of us were ever very good at writing music his way, but...

He was the one who kept the band together; the one who actually got the band together in the first place. I may have been the lead singer, the frontman, but he kept us all together. He was the glue to our broken masterpiece. 

I tried to take over his place, thought I was meant to be in the spotlight after everything went to complete fucking shit. I blocked out everything except the music and the fans screaming my name. I thought it was working, not having to think about him and the mess we made. Not having to feel like my heart was being ripped from my chest every waking moment. I tried to keep it together, make it seem like the past didn’t really matter. But I guess time caught up with me. And after a while the alcohol and the weed just wasn't doing it for me anymore. It wasn’t keeping me numb, just making the ache that I felt les intense, but still there. And then Sarah came along, and well, that whole time is kind of a blur honestly.

But I did love her. 

I still do love her.

When she finds out what I've been up to she'll probably never speak to me again. She'll put all the pieces together of the past few years. All the songs I’ve written, the words that I claimed were about her, even if it didn’t make any sense I tried to convince her I was singing about her, and no one else. And then that's it. My covers blown. It'll all be out in the open, all the emotions I've tried so hard to keep bottled up. And she’ll know, she will know exactly who I was talking about.  
But it doesn’t matter, because he doesn't even care. He never cared. If he cared about me at all he wouldn't have ended what we had together. He wouldn’t… have said those things to me, wouldn’t have straight up lied to my face and tried to downplay what we had.

But that’s what he did; made me feel like a delusion needy child. Told me that I didn’t know what I was talking about when I told him what he meant to me.

I know he was scared, I get that, but I was scared too and we could’ve got through it together if he just…

I feel sick to my stomach. 

This realization makes me move away from him on the bed, slowly. I don't think I could form any words to him if he woke up right now anyway. I don’t think I could face him in the daylight, everything seems so much more freeing at night, like anything and everything is possible if you just try hard enough.

But its morning now and the sun is shining in through the window.

So I gather my clothes together and put them on. Pat down my pockets for my phone and wallet. I rub my eyes as I’m pacing around the room looking for any other damning evidence that I was here. 

As I pull my hands away from my face I spot a used condom on the floor. 

My footsteps become hurried as I walk to the front door, leaving him in blissful sleep on his bed. 

Dottie barks at me when I have one foot on the sidewalk and one foot still inside his house. His house. I've wondered what it would look like these past few years. What he would have on the walls, the way he would decorate, if it would be a disgusting mess like our tour bus used to be. 

I close the door when Dottie starts barking loud enough to wake him. I get in my car and hit the gas to get the hell out of there. 

I check my phone as I'm driving and have a few missed calls and texts from Zack asking where the hell I am and if I've done anything stupid.

Well Zack, I have. I let Ryan Ross fuck me, _again._

And the past ten years that I tried so hard to forget and bury come rushing back to the surface. Now I'm back at square one, right where I started. All that progress lost. 

I grip the wheel tighter and start inhaling some shallow breaths, my heart racing and my head pounding.

I'm in way over my head here.

\---------------------------------------------------------------

**Many many months earlier....**

 

"We are Panic! At the Disco and I'm Brendon Urie and we want to thank you guys so much for hanging out with us tonight! You're all beautiful and we love you, goodnight!"

I breathe heavily into the microphone and wave goodbye to the crowd with a big smile on my face. They're yelling and screaming, "I love you" "One more song" "Ohmygod Brendon!" but I just give them a dazzling smile and jog off stage.

As soon as I'm behind the curtain Zack is immediately ushering the band and myself to our dressing room. It's a pretty big venue so the dressing room is decent. A snack table is set up in the corner of the main room, smooth leather couches are set up in a half semi-circle, and a full size fridge stocked with sodas and beers. 

There's a smaller room off to the right of the main one lined with individual mirrors and counters. Some counters are full of amp cords and lighting equipment for the show, while others are stocked full of make up that none of us have used. We probably would've used the makeup on the Nothing Rhymes With Circus Tour. A faint memory drifts into my mind before I can put on the breaks to stop it.

He... he would've done my makeup for me. We'd both be sitting down in chairs facing each other, him with a makeup brush in his hand, and me with a beer or a water bottle in mine. He'd lean in close, pausing while about to put on my eyeliner, his breath ghosting over my lips. He would always hold his breath at first when he got that close.

It always happened this way. When he would lean in too close and we would both freeze up, neither one of us making the first move. Instead we would laugh it off or sometimes I would try to make a joke about how he can't resist my beautiful eyes or some nonsense to make him laugh. I'd always say something stupid, just to see him smile. His smile...

_No._

I can't go there.

Block it out, just block it out. It's easier if he's nameless, don't think about it, just don't think about him--

_Ryan Ross._

I hear his name in my head like a ghost is whispering it into my ear and I feel like I can't catch my breath. This is stupid, it's idiotic. Just the thought of him shouldn't have this affect on me. But it does.

I exchange smiles and small talk with the crew and other bands as I pass them on my way to the showers in the venue. I shower and get dressed and sit in the main room with Zack until Dallon, Kenny, and Dan are ready to head out.

It was a good show. The fans were really responsive, we played well, and it wasn't hot as hell like at most venues. 

I talk about the show as we all get into a van that will drive us to the airport. We just had one show in Seattle and are on our way back home to Los Angeles.

We aren't on an official tour so we just play a few shows here and there on random dates. Our next show isn't for a week, but after that we have three shows in one week. Out official tour for the new album, Death Of A Bachelor will start in about 4 weeks or so. The album was released a few days ago, so in about a month after the release we start the new tour. I’m gonna enjoy this free time while I can before it’s bunk, booze, and bands all over again.

I don't mind the random shows. It means we don't have to stick to a certain set list; that I can change up the songs, as long as the rest of the band is okay with it. 

We always do I Write Sins Not Tragedies last because it's the most popular song and the crowd goes wild over it. We always keep that the same, but I'm allowed to throw in a cover here and there or a song like New Perspective; one that isn't on one of the four albums. And of course I always want to play the new singles just released. Give the crowd something new and exciting, change it up a bit.

Because I sure could use some kind of change right now instead of this lifeless routine.

Life is a funny thing, it really is. Think about it from another person’s perspective for a moment. You have no idea what is going on in that someone else's head. They could seem like the happiest person on the outside, like someone who has their shit together, has lots of money, maybe like a famous person. You see them up there smiling, doing their job and you think they have it all.

But my dear friend, you couldn't have it more wrong. Appearances is what it’s all about in this business. Well, and the music too of course.

My bandmates may be in the same car as me, but I couldn't feel further from them. I know I know, that sounds corny or lame, or maybe I even sound like a chick but fuck it, it's the truth. 

Something is missing. This can’t be all that’s left after ten years of being in this band.

Something is missing for me in this life of nonstop music, and cameras, and screaming fans. 

The music is mine, don't get me wrong. It's all me and that's something I'm proud of. My heart and soul go into all of it. It just gets a little heavy sometimes when you don't have anyone to share it with. 

The guys are great, like brothers to me; but in the end, at the end of the day, it's really only me in Panic! At the Disco.

\--------------------------------------------------------------

"Brendon, what are your plans after the tour is over?"

"I think just go home, spend some down time with the wife and our dogs. Record some tracks in the studio and just see where it takes me from there." 

"Oh! So there is another album in the works!?" She gushes.

I chuckle and give a small smile. "Well, once this tour is over there will be a pretty big break before the next tour. After all the album just came out a few weeks ago, I still want to promote it as much as possible. However, I already have some ideas for new music that I want to put down on paper."

The interviewer tries to pry more information from me about the next album, even though Death Of A Bachelor was just released 2 months ago. We’ve only been on tour barely a month and we still have 5 more to go. I feel like interviewers are never satisfied with what's in front of them, they’re always on the hunt for the next best thing.

I answer some more questions about the new album, share some tour stories to make the interviewer happy, and just when I think we hit all the popular topics, she goes after my worst nightmare.

"So, I'm sure you get this a lot but, any plans to reunite with the former members of Panic!'? Have you been in contact with Ryan Ross recently?"

I subconsciously squeeze the microphone tighter and my heart starts beating faster.

"Uh... no, no future plans. I still talk to Spencer regularly, but he's busy with his own stuff going on. I don't think there's any plans of us making music together in the future, not that I would object if he offered."

"And Ryan Ross?"

Goddammit lady, take the hint that I don't want to talk about it. "No, I haven't been in contact with him, but I wouldn't object to a collaboration with him either."

The interviewer literally gasps and covers her mouth, like she just can’t hold back her excitement.

“I’m sure after all these years, getting some of the old band back together would make the fans go crazy!” She says. She stares at me like I’m supposed to comment on that. Like I’m supposed to chuckle and smile and say how good it would be for all of us to get back together again. But it wouldn’t. That’s not the truth. But hell, I’ll lie through my goddamn teeth like I always do, say what people wanna hear, because no matter what I say they’ll believe whatever they want in the end. What I say doesn’t matter.

When my brain catches up with my mouth, I smile. “Yeah, it might be nice to get back together with old friends again, nothing is for certain though; like I said, there’s no future plans or anything. What I do have planned is a new tour coming up next year.” That definitely gets her attention. Just give out a new piece of information and they’ll latch onto it like a fucking hawk.

I give out a few more details about the tour and some plans I have for the future and give the girl a quick hug and walk off the set, trying to avoid anyone that gets in my path. Zack never seems to leave my side though.

“Hey, what the hell was that?” He asks. “You know you aren’t supposed to talk about any details about the new tour yet, we don’t have permission to disclose any info about it yet, man.” His voice is raising and I try to walk faster to escape him. When I don’t explain myself to him right away he says, “You know, if you don’t want to talk about him I can just tell the interviewers that he’s off-limits to talk about. They’ll listen to me.”

This makes me stop and turn back towards him. “What’s the fucking point? They’ll ask anyway. Everyone is hungry for that part of my life; sometimes I feel like it even overshadows the music and what I’m trying to accomplish.”

“If I say he’s off-limits to talk about, then he’s off-limits. I’ll even stop the interview if I have to, as long as it’s not live.” He adds.

“Forget it, there’s no point, let them ask. And I’m sorry. About the tour details. I just had to get her off my back about…” I pause as memories are flashing behind my eyes, “…him. I’ll take the heat from it later, I wasn’t thinking clearly.” I rush the words out so I don’t have to deal with this whole situation anymore.

On our way out I run back into the dressing room and grab two beers, both of them for myself.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------

This tour started off so well. It really did, but all good things must come to an end.

“Man, I just don’t want to see you getting too messed up tonight, okay?”

Dallon is currently trying to persuade me not to go to this party tonight because he seems to think that I can’t handle my liquor and my weed. Well, fuck him, he doesn’t even know how much weed I used to smoke, this is nothing compared to back then. During Pretty. Odd…

I shake my head back and forth. “I’ll be fine, Dallon. I appreciate you looking out for me but I’m fine, really. Little partying on tour is what it’s all about right!?” I pat him on the shoulder and smile warmly at him.

This tour started off so well. Now I can’t wait for it to be over.

Sarah and I have been arguing. Well, I should say arguing more lately than normal. Well, it’s mostly me that’s doing the arguing. Okay, I’m a fucking mess and I take it out on her.

She didn’t come with us on this tour because I didn’t want her to. She respected my decision because she’s a wonderful wife, and I honestly think she can see right through my bullshit.

I don’t want to leave her, I just need to figure a few things out. It’s true that we have been distant lately—okay, I have been distant lately. It’s just getting hard to try and put on a smiling face when someone else’s smile is always showing up behind my eyelids. 

I’ve been doing fine with it for so long that I think now I’m finally at my breaking point.

I’m missing something. I can feel it.

I don’t know if it’s him or not, but I’d never admit it if it was. Never admit that I still feel a piece of myself missing after he left. 

There’s a party being thrown tonight in LA and the whole band is going out, plus some of the crew and Zack of course. We have two shows in LA this tour, the one tomorrow night and another one in two months, toward the end of the tour. Instead of being home with Sarah I’m at this party. Shows what kind of a husband I am. But enough thinking about that, I’m a few beers in and everything is already a little fuzzy.

The night starts out fine, I’ve already had a few beers on the way here, but I can’t exactly remember how many. We drove in from our Las Vegas show last night and all agreed to drive the tour bus right to the party; because we all planned on attending. I know Zack will drive me home if I get too hammered and I’m pretty happy about that honestly.

The music is loud and the lights are hypnotic and I start to feel a little more excited about tonight. I’m gonna drink and relax with friends and maybe even get a little drunk; it’s going to be a good night. A good night to forget what’s really on my mind. That annoying pull he has on my subconscious. Memories of us dancing around in my mind.

I’d never admit it but I still dream about him. His face appears in my mind while I sleep, in various years, with different hair styles and different expressions on his face. It’s like going back in time all those years and seeing him all over again, almost like it’s for the first time. I see his soft boyish features from when we first met. His straight hair that falls over one eye, making his expression mysterious and sexy. 

I see him older now, with brightly colored scarves and hats. He couldn’t get away from those damn hats. Whenever we would go into a thrift shop it was straight to the hats and scarves during that time. I remember one time him and Jon even went rug shopping at a thrift store.

I remember thinking what it would be like if he was buying a rug for our home; what it would be like to live in the same space with him.

Someone knocks into my arm and I end up spilling half my drink on myself and the floor.

“Fucking idiots…” I mumble as I stumble to the bar for another drink. Zack will tell me to call it quits soon, so I take some shots before ordering my next beer. 

I walk to the bathroom to take a piss and go sit on the windowsill to light up a blunt by the window. It’s a little risky but I know no one in the club will care and my mind is too foggy to pay attention to other people walking in and out of the bathroom. 

I hear someone say my name and it catches me so off guard that I jump from my place sitting by the window and fall down onto the floor, hitting my temple on the way down. A black figure of a person walks towards me and the next thing I see is total darkness.

 

I wake up to a bright light shining in through a window. My hangover is pounding in my head and it’s too bright in this room. I put my hand over my eyes and take a deep breath and slowing look around.

I’m not in my house and not on the tour bus either. I’m in Zacks spare bedroom of his house in LA. _Oh, shit._

“ZACK!” I shout and immediately wish I didn’t. My voice echoes through my splitting headache and I wince and press my palm to my left eye.

Zack walks into the bedroom as I sit up. “What happened last night? I… don’t really remember much.” I tell him.

He stares at me a little sheepishly which has me worried. That’s not a look that Zack typically has on his face. 

“You mean when I picked you up off the bathroom floor of the bar or after?” He asks with a slight smile.

I stare at him and try to clear the fog away from my mind. “Just tell me what happened dipshit.”

“Well, apparently you fell on the floor in the bathroom and hit your head pretty hard. By the time I found out about it someone was already attending to you. So imagine my surprise when I walk into the bathroom and find Ryan fucking Ross kneeling on the floor with a babbling-barely-conscious Brendon Urie.”

Now Zacks face has taken on a cocky grin that I know oh too well. 

“Wh— What are you… you’re fucking kidding. He wouldn’t… how did he—“

“Check your pockets.” Zack says before I can even form a coherent thought. 

I look at him a little dumbfounded before searching the pockets of my jeans that I slept in.

And sure enough, in my right front pocket is a small napkin from the bar last night with a phone number written on it in an all too familiar handwriting.

_R. R. 310-708-2004_


	2. Another day, filled with regret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This story is still getting started so please stick with me, there will be Ryden soon I promise!!  
> Follow me on tumblr if you want @rydenpynch :)

I rub at my eyes and cradle my head in my hands, still fighting off this fog that’s clouding my memory of last night. 

I remember arriving at the party in the tour bus with the band, having some more drinks, mingling with people, but that’s all I remember.

I’m sitting in Zach’s guest bedroom staring at a napkin with a phone number on it. _Ryan Ross’s_ phone number. I suppose I don’t even know if he gave me his real number; it could be a fake one to one of his buddy’s phones or to some sex hotline or something. I start to doubt it was really Ryan at all who wrote on this napkin, but then I remember that Zack saw him. He was real, alive, and in the flesh. And I was too drunk to even remember seeing him. What a great impression I made after not seeing him for a few years. _Idiot._

Zack went to gather some more of his stuff to bring with him for the remainder of the tour while I use his shower. I peel off my sticky and smelly clothes from the party and toss them in the corner of the bathroom. I let it fill up with steam before stepping into the big shower, closing the sliding glass door.

The warm water feels good running down my body. My hangover is still with me, making my eyes tired and my head pound, but the heat of the water is slowly helping. After I wash up I change into some fresh clothes that Zack was nice enough to grab from the tour bus last night. 

When I walk into the living room, Zack’s hauling his bags out to his car, telling me to hurry up. He’s driving me to my house for the first time in a few long weeks. We have a show here in LA tonight and then we head out on the bus to finish up the next two months of the tour.

“So—I mean, what did you say to him, when you saw him last night?” I ask tentatively once we are on the road to my house.

Zack peaks over at me while he’s driving. He hesitates for a few moments, as if he's deciding if he should tell me anything about Ryan Ross. “People at the party were whispering about you passing out in the toilets, so I went to go get you and saw him there. He was just… cradling your head and shaking your shoulders trying to get you to wake up. It was kinda freaky, dude. He looked really freaked out.”

I inhale a long breath and let it out slowly as his words wash over me. _He looked really freaked out._ I wonder if that's true. I wonder if my crazy antics still have an affect on him after all this time.

“You were waking up and mumbling and clutching his arm like your life depended on it. You didn’t want to let him go, Brendon. Are you sure you don’t remember anything?” He asks. I search my memory but no new information has surfaced. Even if I did remember him I’m sure my brain is trying to save me the emotional pain of all the feelings he stirs up inside me.

“No. I don’t remember anything else.” I say as I stare out the window. I hear Zack sigh and he pushes harder on the accelerator, speeding up the car.

We’re pretty quiet for the rest of the drive, making some small talk here and there. I know Zack can feel how tense I am over the whole encounter, not to mention how pissed off I am that I can’t even remember it. I don’t even really know what Ryan looks like lately. I don’t know if he’s letting his hair grow out again, letting it curl at the ends when it goes past his ears. He doesn’t let it go over his eyes anymore like when we were 18, no. It’s more controlled now, makes him look more mature. Or maybe he’s keeping it short, letting it go straighter at the top of his head. I wonder if he has gotten any new tattoos. I have so many questions about him but I don’t ask Zack any of them.

Zack tells me how he took control of the situation last night—his words, not mine—and pulled me up, away from Ryan’s grasp in the bathroom. He thanked him for looking out for me and started to take me out of the club when Ryan came up jogging behind him, telling Zack to ‘hang on a minute’ with a hand on his forearm. He ran to the bar to get a napkin and a pen and came back and pushed it into my front pocket. And that was that. He walked away to resume his night after that.

I pop a few aspirin while Zack pulls into the driveway. He gives me a hard look before unlocking my door. “Are you going to tell Sarah about what happened last night?”

“I don’t see why not. Nothing happened.” I reply. Zack is still staring at me but this time he rolls his eyes.

“You passed out in a bathroom at a party last night and Ryan Ross just happened to be there and give you his phone number, fuck man! It may not mean much to her but I know the history between you too, at least the most important parts of it. Not to mention that time when he—“

“Stop.” I say. “I can’t do this right now, I still have a headache and there’s a show tonight. After that we go back on tour and I won’t need to worry about it. I know what he did, it—I’ve buried that so deep Zack, do not bring it up again. I know all that went down between us… it wasn’t good, I know that. But I also know what ‘time’ you’re talking about and I can’t think about that, I just can’t. I’ll see you in a few hours.”

I get out of the car and shut the door rather hard, wincing as my head still pounds. I walk into the house and my dogs come running, barking at me and trying to climb up my leg.

“Hey guys, oh I missed you both so so so much!” I say as I crouch down to pet both of them. I hear the soft sound of food sizzling as I walk with them into the kitchen. “Hey…” I say quietly.

“Hey. Thought I’d make you some breakfast, even though it’s almost noon.” Sarah says and she turns around and walks over to me, wrapping her arms around my neck in a comfortable hug. My arms come up around the small of her back and hold her tighter, breathing in her scent. She pulls back slightly to look into my eyes, as if she’s searching for something, or someone. Who I used to be. Who she thinks I am.

“I’ve missed you.” I say while she’s still searching my eyes. I lean down and kiss her, one hand on her wasit and the other at the back of her neck. She sighs against me and seems to relax a little. But she pulls away again. 

“What happened last night? I knew about the party, but I got a call from Zack that you were staying at his place. Said… you were pretty drunk.” There's a hint of anger in her voice.

My frown deepens and I have to avert her eyes for a moment, which is a bad move on my part. She walks back over to the eggs and bacon.

“I think I had a little too much to drink. Apparently hit my head in the bathroom so Zack took me home. I don’t remember any of it but I’m sure there were some pictures taken by spectators.” I say sitting down to watch her cook. I take a deep breath “And… Ryan was there. Helped me when I was unconscious I guess, I only have Zacks word to go by for that encounter.”

She pauses slightly and continues cooking. “Alright.” She says. “I just worry about you, you know that. As long as that’s all that happened.” Her voice sounds unsure, as if she’s asking me what I think she’s asking me.

“Nothing else happened. I was with the guys all night, and only with Ryan for that moment before Zack came. I love you, Sarah, I’d never do anything to hurt you.”

Another pause. “I know that.” She says. “So hows your head feeling now? I can heat up a warm towel for you if you want.”

I tell her that my head is fine, mostly, except for the hangover that’s starting to dull. I tell her stories that happened on tour that I didn’t tell her in our phone conversations. She tells me she’s coming to the show tonight with some girlfriends and how excited she is. It’s been awhile since she saw me perform, since before this tour. I tell her I can’t wait for her to see the show.

She sits down and we eat the wonderful breakfast she’s prepared. Afterwards I go to our bedroom to charge my phone that’s been dead since sometime yesterday. I plug it in and the screen comes to life. After a moment the screen floods with messages and notifications that I’ve missed. I dismiss all of them, for now. I take the napkin out of my pocket and program the number into my phone, putting it under R.R., just like he signed it. I see if there’s any messages from Ryan and I’m slightly relieved and disappointed when I find none. I remind myself that he doesn’t have my number, so I shouldn’t expect a text from him. I set my phone down and go to the closet to grab my stage clothes for tonight.

I hear Sarah enter the room. She walks around me and over to our bed, keeping eye contact with me the whole time. She’s sitting up, with her back against the headboard. She start’s to unbutton and take off her sweater and I know where this is going. I’ve been on tour the last few months, and she’s been at home. I’m not really in the mood after everything that’s been going on between us, not to mention last night. But I can’t say no. She’d get suspicious and start asking why I don’t want to fuck her.

She drops her sweater and blouse onto the floor and her bra is soon to follow. 

I’m just staring at her, although I’ve moved closer to the bed. I’m still attracted to her, of course I am, she’s gorgeous. She’s got all the right curves in all the right places. Her skin is smooth and soft, flawless in it’s color. Her body is light and petite and knows how to keep up with mine.

I pull off my shirt as I climb onto the bed. I slide my hands up her bare sides and kiss her. I kiss her like I’ve never kissed anyone before, like I’m 13 again and just a shy virgin. I’m tentative, letting our lips barely touch, just pressing together. I pull back slowly, just less than an inch before I push my lips toward hers again, still without barely any pressure. Her breathing is getting faster. She’s aching for me to do more.

This isn’t how it usually is between us. I’m more aggressive than this, but I ultimately like her to pleasure me the most, for her to be in control. More clothes are shed as I take things to the next level, and Sarah responds like it’s been months since we were together (which it true). I leave open mouthed kisses from her neck all the way down her body. She arches off the bed and lets these small moans escape her lips. I make my way down her navel and head south. When I get to the spot she’s craving, she let’s out a loud gasp and I chuckle against her folds as I push my tongue inside. I eat her out until she climaxes and I’m panting. I collapse down next to her and think I’m just about to drift off to sleep when she decides to return the favor. My cock comes back to life with her wet kisses all over it.

I know she deserves more, better than me. She deserves someone who’s not thinking about someone else while being with her. 

Our bodies move and grind together, searching for more skin on skin contact. I think that’s what I like the most, the feeling of touching someone else, of being so close to them that you can feel their pulse; hear their breath. It’s one of the few things that reminds us of why we’re alive.

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It’s been one week since I was back in my hometown of LA. One week since I saw my wife. And one week since Ryan Ross gave me his phone number. I haven’t called him yet. But, that doesn’t mean I haven’t stalked him a little.

We’re still on the road, touring, so having any private time to myself is very limited. The bunks are close together, the lounge is small, and there’s only so much room in the dressing rooms of venues. But, my cell phone is password protected.

With the curtains drawn, I'm alone in my bunk. Minus the sounds of the others still having fun in the lounge.

The internet is a wonderful thing. Any information you want is at the end of your fingertips. So when I type in _Ryan Ross_ in the search bar, you can imagine what kinds of things pop up. Most of them have to do with me, with... our band. _The_ band. My band? I don't even know what to call it anymore.

He has a twitter account, I already know that much, but I don't look at it or keep up on what he's doing. I search instead for something else. Nope, no periscope, which doesn't surprise me. He never was too outgoing. That was usually left up to me in the interviews. Periscope seems too personal for him. Ah, Instagram, here we go.

It looks legit. It's even active, with some recent pictures; the earliest from 2 days ago. I scroll down his pictures fairly quickly, looking for anything to stand out, any patterns. And so far I see a girl and a dog. Must be his girlfriend. I feel like my chest gets a little tight all of a sudden but I pass it off as nothing. He looks happy. And good... like, really good. It's with a guilty and shameful feeling that my hand starts to unbuckle my belt and drawn the zipper down, when the curtain draws back on my bunk.

"Hey, Brendon, you gotta see... whoa, man! Sorry, didn't know you were getting off in here!" Dallon smiles and laughs at me as I hug my phone to my chest, hoping he didn't see who I was looking at pictures of.

"Can't a guy rub one out in privacy?" I tell him and I buckle my pants back up. I get out of the bunk and prepare myself for whatever is so important that Dallon wants to see.

**Author's Note:**

> I'll add more tag as they come. This is a work in progress; it's been about 8 years since I've written a Ryden so I'm just getting back into it. Please let me know if I should continue this story, thanks!


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